


Wayward Homebound

by TheAngelofFate



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: ABSOLUTELY PLATONIC, Amnesia, Angst, Big Brothers, Brotherly Love, Brothers, Family, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Jason is a lost and confused boi, Little Brothers, absolutely no slash, all the hugs, bruce is a great father to his kids, but know that I will write as often as I can, depends on if my interests don't change like last time, i dont know how many chapters this story will have
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-26 08:17:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19764208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAngelofFate/pseuds/TheAngelofFate
Summary: Having no memory since he was young, and therefore emotionless to boot, Maigo obeyed the laws and ways of his Master of League of Assassins. He's known no other way of life for the past seven years. That is until intruders invaded his home, and something happened in the aftermath of that encounter. Something that he never thought would ever come to pass.Maigo remembered.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well holy crap, this is a thing. And here I thought I'd never write for this franchise again after the show got cancelled. But here I am, back at it again with more Batfamily angst. For those who may not know, or for those who do know/remember me from years ago. 
> 
> I am TheAngelofFate, and back over on FanFiction.Net a very long time ago I wrote various fanfics (even though they are old and awful) for Young Justice (amongst other things) during the time it aired back in 2010. Most of them consisted of a much gentle Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson, but after season 2 I added Tim and Jason in there as well. Then the show got cancelled and I eventually stopped writing for the show all together because my interests changed.
> 
> Then season 3 was announced and I couldn't have been more happier. I waited on baited breathe for the show to be released even if I didn't have a DC streaming service subscription. I have watched all the episodes and I absolutely and positively adore them all. It's just so nice to see all these characters again after so long. 
> 
> So my love for this series reignited I now have fuel to write for this franchise once again. One that is filling my brain recently is episode 6 where a certain (Which at the time of this posting has been around seven months since that episode aired, I’ve had to rewrite this story a couple time to to hesitation of it not being so good) character appear at the end. When I saw him, I am not afraid to admit that I had to hold back a scream of pure delight, because as much as I love Richard Grayson, Jason is my favorite batson.
> 
> So without further duo, after basically three years, here is another Young Justice story from me, hopefully its better then the other ones I wrote back in the day

When he fought, he felt no emotions. When he fought, he felt no pain or aches anywhere. It was as if his body was on autopilot,numb to the normalizes that any person would feel, his legs practically moving on their own whenever they would rush towards an enemy.

Sword in hand, he would attack without hesitation, his arms were like lead to him sometimes, just as his legs were, he had no control over them at times as well. But in all the truths in the world,he did not care, he _could not_ care. His mind was his own, even if he didn't remember who he was, even if he couldn't recall anything about himself other then his Master training him, raising him, teaching him to kill without mercy. And yet he could not care, or feel when a task was given to him. Whenever he had a target in his line of sight he would not hesitate in charging forward, slicing at their skin with his trusty sword, slicing at vital organs and sometimes at their throats. To him, it did not matter how much blood he spilled, for as long as he dealt with his target accordingly, he was satisfied.

That was until his recent target— _no_ not target, more like an _opponent_ because this man had skills similar to his own, skills and s stylized set that were _equal_ to his own.

This man, older then he, Maigo was, but was still considerably younger then his Master.

This man with a domino mask covering his eyes and a blue bird like symbol on his kevlar, who's voice made his left eye twitch when he spoke of leaving without confrontation.

His target dodged his attacks swiftly, as Maigo brought his sword from every direction down towards him, the man would simply block it and retaliate attacks of his own. Soon they fell into a rhythm, a sort of dance, half graceful and half aggressive. It was as if they had done this all before. Many, many times before. But how was that even possible? This was the first time ever facing this man? How was he feeling this way, when they had never met before up until this point? It had to be a trick, a mere illusion his own poisonous mind was playing on him like all the other times.

But as he and this man continued their battle, that feeling wouldn't go away. It stuck with him, even well after his master's voice rang out, causing everyone to halt the fight.

"Enough!" His Master called out, and he stood in the shadows before them all. And like the good student that he was, lowered his weapon within seconds.

And as he stood there, while Master Ra's talked with the intruders, that strange feeling _continued_ to gnaw at his stomach, through his goggles, he zoomed in closer to get a better look at this person, and the longer he did so the more recognizable this man was becoming to him.

Though the mask covered the eyes, he felt like they _had_ met somewhere previously, like they knew one another.

"Ra's Al Ghul is many things, but a liar is not one of them." His opponent said towards the meta-human with the bad attitude. Then with that one sentence something sparked within him, a flash of... _something._ In his mind's eye, within that little space of nothingness, Maigo saw the man he had been fighting against, only he was considerably younger then how he was now, he was smiling down at him, which automatically made no sense to Maigo seeing as they were clearly the same height. Then he felt someone... or _two_ someone's ruffle his hair.

Then, the man spoke, but his voice held no sound, though it was still filled with cheerfulness, _"Alright there, Little Wing?"_

Then he realized what this was.

This was a memory

For the first time in the last seven years, he was remembering something from his past. And for the first time, he felt _something_ , shock? Or surprise? Then as quick as it had come, the memory faded and he could only watch as the man board his ship with his comrades.

He felt hurt, there was this ache in his chest which momentarily confused him because he did not feel pain he did not feel anything for the past seven years. That confusion only deepened when he realized that there was no physical wound there. Maigo stood stock still and watched the ship take off and was out of sight in a matter of seconds.

And for a brief moment, he wanted to join them. That man's face appeared within his mind's eye once more, that same bright smile that most made him want to return it, a name suddenly popped into is thoughts. "Gray...son?" Grayson... _yes, yes..._ he knew that name.

That name felt so familiar to him. But he couldn't place who it belonged too.

He watched as his Master gazed at him out of the corner of his eye. "Ah, I see your memory is finally returning. Excellent."

Before he could ask what that meant, he felt a sharp pain in the back of his neck and he was unconscious long before he hit the ground.

•

•

•

As Maigo slept, he dreamed. But they weren't dreamless like they have been for the past seven years, no this time, he dreamt, and he did so vividly, as though if he reached his hand out he could make contact, connect with something solid. The same two figures were standing before him yet again and they were talking, just talking. Their words were muffled, as though they were underwater. Then another man appeared before him, he bent down to his knees so they were in equal heights.

" _Jay?_ " The man asked, voice still muffled but not as it had been before.

_Jay?_

Was the man addressing him? He had to have been, other wise why would he even direct that name towards him.

But that wasn't his name, at least that wasn't the name his Master gave him.

But before he could begin to replay to those voices, he woke with a gasp. Sitting bolt upright, he panted out as thick beads of sweat trickled down his exposed back and chest. Someone had removed his clothes and armor. _Wonderful_ , he specifically told none of his clan members to undress him without his permission. His exposed body made him feel uneasy, the scars that were laird throughout his body made him feel for lack of a better word _uncomfortable_ and someone seeing them, even so much as grazing them simply to apply cream to recent injuries that will no doubt lead to more scars, made him feel sick to his stomach, but strangely, very strangely not _all_ of them did.

Only certain ones left him with a metaphorical pit inside his abdomen. Because most of them, particularly the ones that looked like burns, dents, claw marks and even bullet holes within the layers of his skin, left him feeling proud of them, confident, even if he could _not_ remember where he had gotten them.

For each scar told a story, a story of his missions and life with his clan. His Master even said that scars from a mission built character, even the most life threatening of ones made a person stronger, but these ones, the ones he's had for as far back as he could remember, from as far back as the Lazarus Pit, were a complete mystery to him.

Blinking the sleep away from his eyes, Maigo laid there for a few moments, he knew that it was time to get up. To start his daily training just like he always did, but for some reason he couldn't move his legs. He felt no desire to leave the contents of his sleeping courtiers. Then a knock at his door abruptly shattered those feelings, immediately he answered. "Come in." Watching his door open, he saw that it his Master's daughter, Talia Al Ghul holding her son Damien in her arms.

Upon seeing the baby, Maigo reached his arms out, silently asking to hold him. He didn't know exactly why but he really liked this tiny child, even though they had no relation, he felt responsible for this baby, protective even. And Talia knew this for a fact, which is why she didn't hesitated in placing her son in his arms.

"Why was I sedated?" He asked, holding Damien close, allowing the small baby to grasp onto his finger.

"You're memories were returning." Talia stated simply, as she took out a knife and methodically cleaned it.

"Before I blacked out, Master said that was a good thing."

Talia nodded. "Yes, it is. But a rush of forgotten memories can even lead to the strongest of people to break under its pressure."

He swallowed slowly, looking down at his hands. "So it was for my own safety?"

"Correct."

"Bullshit." The vulgar word left his lips before he was able snatch it back. Both his and Talia's eyes widened, shock that he would say such a thing, but it also felt right all the same, he blinked and opened his mouth. "I—I apologize... Forgive me, I'm—"

"No, it's quite alright." Talia stated calmly as she walked over and knelt down before him. "While you slept, did you remember anything else?"

He shook his head, "Well, yes— but they don't make any sense."

"Explain." She ordered and he told her, slowly and with as much detail as he could remember, he told her what he saw in his dream and what he saw before he was knocked unconscious. "I see, father was right. You are remembering, albeit slowly."

Then Talia stood up, gently taking her son back into her arms, she made her way towards the door. "Talia?" He called after her, she stopped and stood just a few inches away from opening the door. "These past seven years I've known nothing of who I am, not even my previous name. Only the one Master has given me." He inhaled a deep breathe, and let it out through his nose. "I never asked, because I never thought you knew but... Do you happen to know what my real name is?"

" _Maigo_ , meaning lost, or a lost child. That is what my father named you because you were _no longer_ whom you use to be. You're memories while returning are not apart of who you are now and as such so was your old name." Talia carefully watched his expression as she turned her head slightly to the right and looked at him for a brief moment. "Your name— your _real_ name is Jason."

And with that she left the room, leaving a lost and confused 19 year old in her wake.

He blinked several times, trying to process.

_Jason._

_My name is Jason._

_"Jay."_

Blinking hard, a man's voice rang through his ears, it was _far_ different then the one he's heard previously, this one was gruff, stern but kind. What's more is that, just like before, Maigo knew this man too. But the question was, why? _Who_ were they and _what_ did they mean to him, and _why_ did hearing their voices cause such an ache in his chest?

He didn't know, he had absolutely no clue but he was going to find. He always thought that remembering who he had use to be was horrible, why would he want too? When his master provided everything for him? But now though, now that he was remembering, now that he had the chance to do so, he couldn't let it slip past him. Even if these memories weren't pleasant, he had to know.

He would find out, even if it killed him.

Ever since he was informed of his name that is what everyone, most specifically his Master now was addressing him as such now, whereas before they had been calling him Maigo, which translated to, lost child. Which now that he thought about made complete sense. "Maigo." One of the guards called out to him, breaking him from his thoughts, he looked up. "The Master wishes to see you." Standing from his meditation, he made his way over to his master's quarters.

Knocking once, he waited.

"Enter." A voice stated on the other side. Entering the small candle lite room, his master was currently sitting in the same position that he had been a moment ago. "Ah, Jason. There you are." The nineteen year old wrinkled his nose at the name said, still feeling slightly foreign to him, but he nonetheless took a place in front of Ra's. "Tell me, have you remembered anything else?"

He— _Jason_ , thought for a moment. "Just bits and pieces."

Ra's hummed in thought, then he pulled out a file that he had carefully hidden behind him. "Tell me." He inquired as he took out a photo and placed it in front of him, "Do you recognize this man?"

Looking at the photo, he saw that it was a man dressed in a black bat-suite. Jason... _Maigo's_ left eye twitched, and pain traveled a crossed his forehead and down the back of his neck. He knew this pain, it happened every time he tried to remember something, it was as if his mind didn't want him to know, as if his mind was trying to protect him from these memories of his past. "I— I..." But he couldn't give a coherent answer, squeezing his eyes shut, he all but dug his fingers into his left eye to relief some of the pressure there.

"This man," He heard his master begin, and he tried his best to listen intently, but the pain was still making it difficult to do so. "—Is one of my greatest enemies. In this suite, he goes by the name of Batman."

Maigo... _Jason's_ eyes widened. He's heard of this man, his Master has mentioned him in passing and only ever as ' _The Detective_ ' nothing more. But as he looked at the photo, trying his best to ignore the pain in his head. He didn't look like much of a detective, and more so someone from a circus. "Why are you telling me this? What does he have to do with my memories?"

Ra's looked like he wanted to say something but decided against it, "Nothing, just wanting you to be aware in case he ever comes around, him and his former protege."

His eyes widened and he inclined his head.

His master nodded, "Yes, that young man you saw in blue, was his former protege, now known as Nightwing.

_"That's a shitty name, dude."_

"That's a shitty name."

Unlike his daughter, Ra's merely snorted softly, at his vulgar comment, "Indeed." So he counted that as a win, considering the man that was his mentor hardly ever laughed. "Regardless, I have a mission for you." His Master began, voice calm and even. "But as you still are recalling your past, which will most undoubtedly be a painful process, and will therefore will be a liability then an asset to your comrades, it will be _reconnaissance_ only and nothing more. And _no_ heroics, the last time you risked your life to save a comrade you almost cost us the entire mission. Do you understand?"

"Yes, master." He... _Maigo_... _**Jason**_ stood up and a gave a bow. "I will do nothing more then watch and record on your order."

Ra's gestured for him to straightened himself. "Excellent, you leave in three minutes."

He began walking to the door.

"Also." His master's voice halted him just mere inches from the door. "Though you're remembering your past, and as such now know your real name. Know that in this clan, you will always be my Maigo."

Closing his eyes, _Maigo_ could do nothing more then nod as his emotions were suddenly hard for him to contain, he felt his lip twitch upward at Ra's kind words. "Yes, Master."

* * *

Maigo was currently biting his lip so hard he was starting to taste blood. How had everything gone so wrong? How had a simply reconnaissance mission for him and his team turned into this? His finger nails dug into his skin as he watched his comrades engage in combat with the intruders they had been previously fought back home. They weren't losing persay but they weren't winning either, _especially_ not without his assistance. Unsheathing his sword, the nineteen year old took a step forward.

" _It will be reconnaissance mission only and nothing more."_

His finger nails dug into his gloves, as he watched the scene before him.

_I'm sorry, master. But they need my help._

Because from the moment he opened his eyes, from the moment he saw his Master standing above him, he always had this overwhelming urge to help people. Both his master and Talia called him foolish, and that his compassion would one day get him killed. But, sometimes he just couldn't help it. Enemies he had no problem with killing, but comrades, people that he knew and that knew him. He couldn't just leave them to die, that just wasn't who he was.

Even if he couldn't remember who he had been in the past. Right now, he knew what he had to be, and in this very moment he had act as backup for his fellow assassins.

Scanning his various targets, his eyes immediately fell on the young man that his Master had addressed as his Greatest Enemy's former partner.

He stared at this man — _Nightwing_ as he was called— for a few seconds before suddenly Nightwing abruptly stiffened where he stood and wiped around, looking right up at him.

Their eyes locked, even through his goggles he could tell that Nightwing was staring right through them. Then a split second later Nightwing rushed towards the building and Maigo waited for him. Remembering his Master's advice, _"Let the enemy come to you, let_ _ **them**_ _make the first move and then counter."_

Dodging one of Nightwing's attack, he used his sword and swung at the man. Who also blocked and dodged it with ease. That same feeling came back again as they once again fell into the same rhythm as before.

_Block_

_Dodge_

_Attack_

This went on for a a few more silent minutes until Nightwing finally spoke, "Fancy meeting you here." The older man commented lightly, with a small smirk, as holding one his sword with his escrima sticks as he kicked Magio square in the chest. Doubling backward for just a second, he straighten himself and continued. "How does someone as skilled as you end up with someone like Ra's Al Ghul?"

His left eye started twitching. "My background with my Master is none of your fucking business."

He watched as Nightwing's let out this high pitched laugh. " _Ohhh_ , you kiss your parents with that mouth."

Chuckling, he charged forward. "I dunno, I don't have any."

Nightwing's eyes widened for a second time, but this time it was out of pure surprise at his comment. "What?" The young man's voice dropped a few octaves at his statement. Honestly, he didn't know where that had come from himself, but it gave him the advance he needed to get the jump on his opponent. Mimicking Nightwing's earlier move, he delivered a swift kick to the man's chest but he didn't stop there, in a moment of cockiness that hadn't been there previously; he rushed forward, using Nightwing as a spring board, and leapt into the air. He spun around several time before landing on the ground perfectly.

He grinned behind his mask, _where had that come from?_

Apparently, Nighwing was just as surprised as he was at the technique he just pulled off because the acrobat stopped, still in his battle stance, still cautious, but confused and curious. "That move— You..."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of Nightwing's comrades coming to his aid, the female that could change her aura, the one that could apparently not be killed, growling he raised his sword at her. Then he sensed something, like a sixth sense he didn't always know he had, he turned to his left and saw Nightwing rushing at him, charging at him. Knocking both to the ground, hard. They rolled around in the dirt for a few seconds, one trying to escape, the other to do subdue.

Among all his attempts to break free, all the kicks and punch to this man's groin. _Seriously, let me the fuck go._ He realized a second too late that his mask flew off, revealing his face entirely, which was the worst thing you can do when your mentored by Ra's, revealing your identity to the enemy was a huge disappointment, and even resulted in death depending on how many people saw.

In his mind, he cursed and berated himself, how could he do something so _fucking_ stupid—

Then something happened he hadn't expected.

Nightwing froze up. His eyes behind his mask, widened to the size of the saucer plates that his Master uses for his tea. Nightwing open his mouth to speak but nothing came out, the man just stood above him, gaping at him like a koi fish. "J- _Jason_?" The nineteen year old blinked at the sound of his real name falling from the man's lips. How was it possible that Nightwing, one of his Master's various enemies, knew his real name? Maigo— _Jason_ was confused and he absolutely hated it.

But despite that, he felt something bubbling in his stomach. But he didn't know what that feeling was, still his mouth opened before he had a chance to stop himself. "You know me?"

Nightwing's face contorted into an expression of shock and hurt. "I—"

Then Jason saw a fist collided with Nightwing's cheek, sending his opponent flying off of him. Sitting up, he saw one of his comrades, reach forward and pull him to his feet. "Ra's will not be pleased you disobeyed direct orders."

The young assassin found suddenly that he didn't care. For the first time he didn't care about what his Master thought, all he cared about was the man on the ground, rubbing at his cheek. The man that should be his enemy but still possibly knew him.

He wanted answers, no he _needed_ answers.

He took a step forward towards Nightwing. But then more of his fellow assassins were coming to his aid, some were even holding him back. "We need to retreat." One of them stated, then smoke filled his vision.

"Come, Maigo!"

But he wasn't moving, why wasn't he moving? He was just given an order to leave so then why—

His head began to throb, he felt like he was being pulled in two different direction, he felt like he was being ripped down the middle as two different voice called out two very different names—

"Jason!"

" _Maigo_!"

He vaguely felt someone grab him by the arm and yanked him backwards. Dragging him away, as the final bits of smoke faded away.

But as he looked onward, he saw that despite how thick that smoke bomb was, Nightwing was still chasing them. "Stop!" The man cried out as his friends joined him in his pursuit. Above him, he heard one of his fellow assassins, the very one holding him, let out a cry of agony, and then the boy was falling from the treetops.

Maigo landed, but he landed the wrong way and a bolt of electric pain shot threw his entire leg, causing him to fall the rest of the way to the muddy dirt below.

" _Maigo_!"

"Leave me!"

And though those words left his lips, though he meant them with every fiber of his being, his eyes still stung as he witnessed his comrades give him a solemn, respectful gaze before taking off through the trees, leaving him behind. Swallowing the lump that suddenly formed in his throat, he tried not to feel betrayed by the abandonment, because _he_ had been the one who told them to leave, that has been his choice, they were just following protocol. 

But still, there was a sting in his chest as he watched them run away. Then Nightwing landed on the ground a few feet from him. Anger erupted out of Maigo like a volcano, this was all his _fucking_ fault. Because of him, he was alone now, because of him he was now at the hands of the enemy.

But it seemed that Nightwing wasn't fazed by his deadly glare, he just slowly walked towards him. "Jason..."

Shaking his head frantically, he backed away from Nightwing, from to get as far away as possible. His desire to know about his past, he completely tossed all that out the window. Right now, all he wanted was to see his Master, he wanted to see Talia and little Damian again, he just wanted to go home.

For the first time, he felt something that he thought he was long devoid of; _fear_ , he was scared. _No_ , not just scared, he was **_terrified._** Because who knows just _what_ was going to become of him if he let himself get captured.

He felt his back hit the solid oak of a tree behind him, he tried desperately to look for a way of escape.

Then he remembered his sword, his eyes went to it, a thought came a crossed his mind—

" _If captured, it is your life you must take in order preserve our secrets."_ His Master's words echoed in his head.

Nightwing must have somehow sensed his intentions because an expression of dread spread a crossed his features and he rushed slightly forward with his arms held out in surrender. "Whoa! No, no! None of that! Hey, it's okay."

But he swallowed, and shook his head. No— this _wasn't_ okay at all. If the enemy wasn't going to let him take his own life, honorably. Then what was suppose to become of him? Closing his eyes, he did something that he hasn't done since he woke up to agony seven years ago. Curling into himself, wrapping his arms around his legs and hide his face within his knees.

He screamed.

It was raw and loud and it hurt his throat but he did, because he could no longer contain them anymore. His emotions, were choking him, drowning him, dragging him down into an abyss nothingness.

"Oh, Little Wing." A small gasp escaped his lips. Slowly, he lifted his head towards Nightwing. The man had a pained expression on his face. Tears in his own eyes. "It's okay, Jason. I'm here."

_"I know it hurts, buddy. But I'm here."_

"I-I don't—"

Nightwing nodded, smiling sadly, as he bent down and held his eye level, when had he gotten so close? "I know, it's okay."

_"Where's B—?"_

_"He'll be here soon."_

His eye twitched at the voices in his head, making him feel disoriented and pained. Slowly, he watched Nightwing take his mask off. Revealing his bright, piercing blue eyes. "It's going to be alright, I'm gonna help you."

" _When?"_

_"What? Tired of me already, lil' bro?"_

A laugh.

" _Screw you, Dickie."_

Then, tears were cascading down his cheeks for a different reason. There was this _tightness_ in his chest, like someone was squeezing his heart, his throat so dry and raw. It wasn't like someone just flipped a random switch and he suddenly remembered _everything_ by just hearing Nightwing's voice or seeing his face. No, that's not how this worked. He still didn't remember _everything_.

Only a few memories, fragments of his old life, but what he _did_ know, was that his name was Jason, he had been homeless for a good chunk of his life, before he wasn't anymore and that this man before him; was Richard, his brother.

"D-Dick?"

Nightwing's— Dick's, his brother's face morphed from a look of sadness to one of pure shock and then finally one of broken relief.

Jason felt Dick grasp the back of his neck and disgracefully tugged him forward, and he fell willingly against his chest, both of them dissolved on a mess of sobs, arms tightly wrapped around the other. "I don't... I don't know what's happening!" He sobbed out, clinching his fingers at Dick's kevlar covered back.

Because it's true, he didn't.

"Hey, listen to me, Little Wing." Dick pulled back away from Jason, just enough for their eyes to meet. "You and I are going to figure this out. We have to stay _traught_ , remember? It's going to be okay, lil' bro. I'm right here, I got you."

Jason nodded, his head falling back against Dick's shoulder, all he wanted to do was cling to Dick and never let go. His tear-filled eyes wondered over to the rest of Dick's comrades, his heart hurt when he looked at them, saw their reactions to him; their look of shock, confusion and realized that he didn't remember any of them. They were Dick's friends and therefore his friends, right?

But he didn't know any of them.

Though, one of them. The Martian with pasty white skin, smiled at him, tears in her eyes. _Don't worry, I'll help you._ A voice inside his head stated, Jason concluded that it could only the female standing a few feet from him.

And Jason believed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to admit that writing this took months to complete, because like i said before my interests changed a fair view but since the show is now back up and running again after that hiatus, i figured now was as good a time as any to try and finish this.
> 
> Anywhoo, a penny for your thoughts? Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated here, please leave them in a comment and I'll see you all


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My goodness guys, I literally can't even describe how I'm feeling right now? Like in the span of 8 hours, I have received so much feedback from this story? Like 30 kudos 209 people have read this and and three lovely people have commented. I just can't comprehend everything, I haven't received this much love and interest in a story this quickly since my Star Wars Rebels days. 
> 
> I can not even put into words how happy you all have made me in the last 8 hours since posting this. And as a treat, here is Chapter 2, shorter then Chapter 1 but I still wanted to give you all a little something since you guys are all so amazing.

To say that he was having a hard time comprehending what had just transpired was the understatement of the century. Because as they made their way back home, Dick couldn't help but wonder as he stared at Jason's sleeping form, as he boy laid gently against the Bio-Ship walls. _How_? How was Jason here, _how_ is he alive? He died seven years ago, both him and Bruce _watched_ as they laid Jason's casket into the grave. Watched as dirt was piled on top of his little brother. Dick even remembers crying, almost falling to his knees if Bruce hadn't grabbed a hold of his elbow to keep him steady.

It's true that Dick and Jason hadn't been the most affectionate towards each other through the years and bystanders, such as his friends could tell the significant difference between how he treated Jason back then and how he treated Tim long after Jason's death.

And Bruce definitely gave Tim ten times the amount of training then Jason was ever given. The others, even some of the League Members at the time, felt like Bruce was pushing Tim way too hard, but honestly Dick agreed with his adopted father. Jason, as much as they all loved him dearly, had been reckless, had been to naive. To quick to anger and above all had put his trust into the wrong person. Sheila Haywood had betrayed him, her only son, and Jason paid that price with his life.

For his own safety, they both agreed that Tim needed to be _better_ then Jason had ever been.

Dick watched as Jason's facial features contorted into a pained expression. He was having a nightmare, which among their family was a common occurrence. Getting up from his seat, he moved towards Jason. Kneeling down, he gently carded his fingers through Jason's hair, and down his back in a soothing motion.

And once Jason's face relaxed, Dick stepped back, and noticed that everyone was staring at him.

Most specifically, Connor and M'gann. They were giving him mirrored expressions that were mixed, with two different emotions; happiness, and confusion. They were wondering the same thing as he was. How had Ra's gotten his hands on him? More so, if Jason has been alive this _entire_ time, how had no one known about it, how had he and Bruce not known about it?

The answer?

Simple; Ra's was extremely good at keeping secrets.

"Nightwing?" Halo said softly, as if hesitant.

"Yes?" He sighed, dropping back down onto his seat.

"That boy, he is the one we saw in Infinity Island, yes?" The girl asked, choosing her words carefully.

"Yes, he is." He didn't know what else to say to that.

"And you know him, you called him ' _Jason_ '?"

Running a hand through his hair, Dick turned around in his chair and looked down at his hands. "He's my brother, different parents, same adopted father." Dick paused as he glanced at his brother, whom thankfully wasn't having another nightmare. "He died seven years ago— or at least we _thought_ he died seven years ago."

M'gann interrupted him, softly. "Well he _did_ die actually. That day, I felt everything Joker did to him... l—" She didn't finish, she didn't have too.

"When it all happened, I heard his heart stop." Connor placed his hand on her shoulder. "He was a hard ass, sometimes hard to get along with, but then again so was I. When he died, I... didn't take it well either."

"You two definitely hit it off when it came to your tempers." Dick chuckled gently, remembering all the times that Connor helped Jason managed his anger issues the kid had developed over his years on the streets. “If I remember correctly, you punched a wall and we had to restrain you from going after the Joker.“

Connor smirked, nodding his head. Then he looked down, as thought he was thinking about something important. "We don't need to ask the question _how_ is he back, because we all know how, so then _why_?"

The Lazarus Pit, that was obvious.

Dick crossed his arms and thought, closing his eyes. "Ra's said that he wasn't part of the Light anymore. So what purpose could he use _Jason_ for, what could he gain from bringing Jason back?"

"If I may?" Brion asked, suddenly, having been quite this whole entire time. "When my sister went missing, there was once a time where someone had claimed they had found her, they had stated no ransom for her return. My parents offered them a reward, payment, _anything_ to get her back. And when the person had almost every treasure in the vault, he revealed that he was simply lying, deceiving us from the very beginning. They merely wanted gold and the satisfaction of hurting my family more then we already were."

Dick noticed that while Brion said all this the young prince was looking directly at Jason, not in anger as he once had been when they were trying to escape Infinity Island, but with a look of understanding, of sympathy. Slowly, Brion looked at the rest of them. "My point is that maybe the man that brought your brother back is trying to hurt you and your family in a different way then just making him a villain."

"He has a point, people like Ra's tend to do this type of thing a lot." Jefferson stated, crossing his arms.

Dick blinked, looking back at his brother. Brion has a solid point. What could be worse then the loss of a family member?

Simple: Having that family member be brought back by the enemy, with no memories, and being apart of a top secret villainous Organization known at the League of Shadows?

God, he didn't know how to feel about all of this. On one hand he was relieved, _over-joyed_ to have Jason back, because _damn_ did he miss him... but on the other, what exactly had his brother gone through in the years of being with Ra's for Jason to be so loyal to the man? And worst yet, would it have been better if his brother stayed dead?

The mere thought made him want to vomit as the shame bubbled over.

"M'gann, Jason doesn't remember everything quite yet, could you— maybe help him with that?"

M'gann nodded, "Of course, but it has to be his decision." Everyone looked at her, confused and Nightwing looked torn between demanding why in frustration and also understanding. "I've done so much wrong with my powers, made so many mistakes, forced them onto people, _**hurt**_ people." She looked at Connor as she stated this. "I don't... I _don't_ want to do that again, especially since Jason's mind is already fragile enough, if I go in without his permission, his mind might break completely."

Dick gave her a sympathetic look, as much as he wanted Jason to remember, he understood M'gann's reasons.

His gaze again turned to Halo, Forager and Brion, who somehow had managed to get closer to Jason without him noticing.

"He is... broken?" Halo inquired to both Dick and M'gann.

Dick wanted to argue against that claim, but honestly how could he? The past seven years have possibly been hell for Jason, he probably was, in fact, _broken_.

"Forager sees that Jason is small, too small to be such a good fighter or able to place an explosive on Forager's back, Forager is impressed."

Dick chuckled, silently agreeing with Forager, as brutal as Jason was, he always managed to impress almost anyone he met. "He has that effect on people."

"The look on his face reminds me of Gregor whenever he slept after a nightmare." Brion said, his voice filled with a nostalgia that showed Brion missed Gregor back home.

Dick couldn't help but smile at the sight of those three crowding around his brother. As if they were already friends

Then they rode the rest of the way in silence.

During which Dick took out his communicator, the one that was strictly for his family in Gotham and held it in his hand. Bruce has told him to strictly use it when it was an emergency. Seeing as they were both secretly a part their own code of operation without telling the rest of the team or the League. They needed to be sure to only have need of the other when it was absolutely necessary.

But didn't this count as necessary?

That Jason coming back from the dead, _has_ been back from the dead for possible years and neither of them knew it?

When Jason died Dick hardly registered anything else but his own pain of that loss. He cried and grieved for months, even after Tim came along and grounded both Bruce and himself. Dick still silently grieved for Jason, the only people who were able to really bring him out of it, to get Dick back to being somewhat of the man he once had been, was Kaldur, Wally and Roy.

Kaldur meet Dick with understanding and stability

Wally meet him with comfort and reassurance

And Roy— or _Will_ meet Dick with a smack upside the head and a hand to lift him up.

They stayed with him as he grieved, as he mourned for Jason. And stayed well after the tears stopped flowing and his heart felt a little lighter. It wasn't until after all those months later, did Dick finally recognize Bruce's pain. Where he caught the man, gazing at Jason's suit displayed in the Batcave on multiple occasions, as guilt riddled his face, his eyes misty.

He thought back to when they had buried Jason, in the graveyard of Wayne Manor, when Bruce held Dick up as they lowered the coffin in the ground, Dick remembered seeing tears glistening in his eyes behind his sunglasses.

Jason's death may have broke him.

But it _destroyed_ Bruce entirely.

Even long after Tim came into the picture.

Alfred had once told him on a day where Dick stopped by to see how Tim was doing in training. That Bruce was putting Tim through the ringer, constantly putting him through test after test to see his overall improvement. And Dick knew why, Jason was the first person Batman couldn't save. The first and worst loss he's had since the death of his parents. And Bruce didn't want to go through all that again with Tim. Dick knew this, because he felt the exact same thing.

A lump appeared in his throat, he closed his eyes and tried to focus.

Bruce deserved to know.

As they landed back in Happy Harbor, Dick placed his comm in his ear and turned it on, leaning against the wall of the garage. "Nightwing to Batman, do you copy?"

He waited.

And waited

Three minutes later, Dick finally heard feedback.

" _This is Batman, what is it Nightwing_?" Came the gruff reply.

Nightwing opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He just simply stood there, looking very much like a fish out of water. Now that he had contact, now that he could tell Bruce what was going on, he realized; _how_? How could he even being to explain that Jason was back, how could he tell Bruce that the last seven years of grieving and healing had been for nothing? "Bruce, I—" He began but trailed off seconds later.

Batman seemed to sense something was wrong, sensed the emotion in Dick's voice because his own tone dropped and sounded more gentle,sounding more like Bruce. " _What is it?"_

But Dick couldn't get the words out, for some reason, it seemed that everything that had transpired, the knowledge of it all was just suddenly hitting Nightwing straight in the gut. It left him reeling so much he felt almost dizzy.

_Jason was alive_

His emotions were raging in a swirling storm inside his heart; relief and guilt. Happiness and shame. Dick felt like he couldn't breathe and he didn't know why. "You— You need to come here."

Bruce's voice sounded between a mix of between the Man and the Bat. " _Where are you?_ "

"Happy Harbor."

The line went dead after that, not even a second later. Nightwing looked up and saw the Zeta Tube come to life. He barely registered the voice announcing who had arrived. The minute he saw the silhouette of Bruce, his legs were moving before he could stop himself.

Ungracefully, Dick didn't hesitate as he hugged Batman around the waist, feeling like a child all over again. Back when he first lost his parents, where the world didn't make sense anymore and he couldn't hardly even breathe the pain was too much. "Bruce." He whispered, his voice sounded small and fragile, despite the fact that he was a man in his 20s. " **Dad**..."

Bruce's arms encased around him in a matter of seconds, "What's wrong?" He inquired softly, in only a tone he ever used for his children as he began carding his fingers through Dick's hair.

They stayed like that until Dick's breathing leveled out. Then Bruce pulled away just enough to remove both their masks while simultaneously wiping away the tears on Dick's cheeks, knowing that right now, in this moment, this was not the time to be neither Batman nor Nightwing. Right now they needed to be just Richard and Bruce. 

Slowly, Dick opened his mouth. "Jason's alive."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in case you all didn't know. Back when I use to write for Batman, on Fanfiction.Net, I always wrote Bruce in a more caring light then how he's perceived in media as an uncaring father to his children. I like to write and show more of Bruce's parental and caring side that's underneath all the brooding demeanor. 
> 
> Not only that but in the beginning I use to write alot of Dick & Bruce fics before I found out about Jason's character and backstory. Because of such, I couldn't help but add a small, sweet little moment with both of them, hugging. I see it as showing that for Bruce, no matter how old your kids get, neither you nor they are ever too old to hug them. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this little treat for being so awesome. Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated down below in the comments and I'll see you all soon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, words can't describe how utterly ecstatic I am for all the feedback and support you all have given me for this story. Seriously, I feel so full with how much everyone is loving this story. I truly didn't think it would be received so well and the fact that it is, makes me so incredibly overjoyed. 
> 
> Thank you all again

Jason dreamed again, which he was surprisingly getting use too despite none of it still not making any sense. Only this time, the figures before him that had once been unrecognizable, weren't as blurry as the once had been. Dick was in crystal clear view, as a scene played out before Jason's very eyes. A scene of Dick and Jason training in a large gym. _"I bet you can't do six spins in 4 seconds."_ He challenged, his voice younger then how it actually was.

" _You_ _ **do**_ _know I'm from the circus, Little Wing? Six spins is child's play._ " Dick retorted with a laugh.

" _Well, then_ _ **Wingnut**_ _, prove it."_

Dick had and Jason pouted.

Dick ruffled his hair. " _Aw, Jay don't be like that."_

" _Fuck you. You cheated."_ Jason glared, arms crossed over his chest.

" _Jay, I'm a_ professional _acrobat."_

 _"You_ _**still** _ _cheated."_

 _"And you're_ _**still** _ _a sour loser."_

The dream ended there and Jason awoke, blinking his eyes open, the ray of the sun shining in through the curtains. Then he sat bolt upright, noticing that this room was not his room back on Infinity Island, he was somewhere else.

But where?

And why?

Then out of the corner of his eye, he saw something move, he looked to his right and saw Nightwing sitting in a chair by his bed, fast asleep.

"Easy, don't try to move just yet." A low voice abruptly stated gruffly, but for some odd reason Jason didn't flinch nor jump, even at how unexpected and abrupt it was. Blinking, he looked around for the source and saw a figure standing in the corner concealed in the shadows. The figure stepped out, revealing himself and Jason almost had a heart attack. For he knew who this was, even though the man standing before him was wearing the suit, he still knew. For his Master told him about his greatest enemy, the Bat, the Caped Crusader of Gotham City.

The Detective, aka Batman

Shit...

Fuck

His heart beat a million miles a minute. This wasn't good, not only had he been captured but Maigo has been captured by the Batman himself. Who knows what would become of him now. God, why hadn't he just listened to his Master, _none_ of this would be happening if he had just listened. Maigo looked around frantically, desperately trying to find something anything to defend himself with or even a possible escape route. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder, and though it was gentle, Maigo jumped fearfully, his instincts on overdrive as he felt the need to punch whoever had a hold of him.

"Woah, hey. It's okay." Then Dick's face came into his field of vision. "Breathe, okay? Just breathe." Dick's voice was smooth and calm, just like his memories always showed him. Closing his eyes, he did as he was instructed and took a few deep breathe, trying to calm his racing heart. When he opened them again, he saw Dick smiling at him. "Hey." He greeted cheerfully, his face showing more emotion then he probably wanted to. "You remember me, Jay?"

_Jay, that's right._

His name was Jason, and Dick was his brother. And Maigo had been the name his Master had given him, since his past had been erased from him. Slowly, he nodded his head. "Dickie."

If it were possible, Dick smiled even wider. "Hey, Little Wing. How's your memories?"

Jason thought for a minute or two, "I— I once bet you couldn't do six spins in four seconds."

Dick grinned, chuckling lightly. "Yup, and I totally won, and then you pouted."

Before Jason could even open his mouth to argue, that he has never pouted in his life, a light cough interrupted them both. They both turned and Jason watched as Batman slowly took a step forward, and Mai— _Jason_ instinctively tensed up. Softly, he felt Dick grasp his hand. "Hey, remember to breathe, alright? It's okay, it's just B."

"He thinks I'm going to hurt him." Batman announced without hesitation. "Ra's must have taught him to see me as a threat."

Upon hearing his Master's name, he shook his head, looking a little angry that this. Honestly, how could his brother have ever been his former protege? "No, he just said you were his greatest enemy. He never told me to fear you."

"But you do?"

Jason actually let out a laugh, "Not a chance." This outburst left him silent, which was becoming a common occurrence now. He blinked several times, confused. Then he looked to Batman and Dick. "Who am I?" Because if anyone who possibly know who he had been before, then it was Dick and the Worlds Greatest Detective. " _Who_ am I?" He repeated, feeling frustrated.

"Jay..."

Batman took the smallest of steps forward. "Your name is Jason Todd. Your parents were Catherine and Willis Todd. You were orphaned at a young age when your mother died of a drug overdose and your father was murdered by a man called Two-Face whom your father had been working for. Since then, you were homeless on the streets of Gotham City and one day I found you and took you in. Seeing as Dick retired the mantle of Robin, I trained you into becoming the new Robin. I raised you, adopted you and gave you a home. Then you eventually joined Dick's team on and off for various missions." Batman's voice was level and calm, as he talked not ever missing a beat as he explain Jason's apparent life story in a matter of a few minutes. "And then—you were gone."

The silence that followed seconds later was so deafening, that a pin dropping on the ground would probably shake the entire house. 

Beside him, Dick sighed. "Did you _have_ to unloaded literally everything? You're gonna fry his brain with that much info, _especially_ since he doesn't remember any of it." Dick raised his hand and rubbed the back of his neck, "Leave it to you, to be so blunt in a situation like this."

But Jason wasn't listening to his brother's words. Instead he gazed at Batman, and the man before him stared back just as intently. "Take off your mask." He said in a more commanding tone, because if he was going to have this type of conversation with the Batman himself, then Jason preferred to see the Man behind the mask and not the Bat.

Without even an ounce of hesitation, Batman raised his hands and tugged off the cowl that covered the upper part of his face. The face that was revealed to him almost made Jason's heart leap into his throat, all at once an abrupt wave of pain jolted straight through his head. His hand clung to his temple and his face crunched up in pain as he tried to breathe through the pain, through clinched teeth.

Then a memory faded inwards, appeared out of thin air within his minds eye.

_"Why the long face, chum?"_

_"Bruce, are you sure I'm_ _ **ready**_ _to be Robin?"_ His younger self asked curiously, sounded nervous.

A soft chuckle rang out. _"My overall opinion doesn't matter, Jaylad. What matter is, do you think your ready? Are you ready to help people, to save them?"_

_"Well, yes of course but—"_

_"Then there's no need for further discussion. If you believe you're ready, then you are."_

_"But Dick was such a better Robin then me..."_

_"You aren't Dick, Jason. And I don't expect or even want you to be. You are you and that's enough."_

_"I know that but—"_

_"_ _ **But**_ _if it makes you feel any better, I do believe you are ready for this. If I didn't, I wouldn't have had Alfred sew you your own suite."_ A strong hand gently ruffled his hair followed by a soft smile. _"Trust yourself, that's all I'll ever ask."_

_"Okay."_

The memory faded and the pain subsided long enough to slip his hands away from his temple. When he he looked back up, he found both Dick and Batman staring at him. Concern laced throughout their feature as they were now both even closer to the bed then they had previously. Seeing them standing there, knowing who they were to him, if only just a little bit meant more to him then he could describe.

So much so that Jason hadn't realize he was crying until he felt tears cascading down his face. He looked at Batman and saw that instead of the Caped Crusader who had been staring back at him a moment ago, had disappeared and was simply Bruce Wayne. Jason open his mouth to speak but all the came out was a wet hiccup as more tears spilled down his cheeks. "I wasn't ready." His voice hitched in his throat as he said those words. "Y-You use to call me Jaylad and I _wasn't_ ready." Even though he still couldn't remember exactly _why_ he hadn't been ready to be Robin, when both of them had been so sure that he had been back then, that didn't stop Jason from feeling a swell amount of guilt and self hatred.

The feelings tore at his heart like a thousand rusty nails, what had he done as Robin to make him feel like this?

"No, you weren't." Gently, ever so gently. He watched as Bruce, leaned forward, his hand raising up and gently cupped his cheek, whipping away a few tears with the pad of his thumb. Once again they stared into the others eyes, and from within those blue orbs, guilt swam there as well along with a stream of tears. Guilt that was far different then his own had been, far more powerful and soul crushing. "But that wasn't on you, it was me. I'm the one who failed you, I'm sorry."

Jason's throat felt unbearably tight, as he leaned into the older man's touch. Distantly, it felt so nostalgic, that simply motion of affection made him feel more safe then he ever remember being with the League of Shadows.

"I know you don't remember, not truly. But I need you to know that I'm sorry." Bruce' voice sounded hoarse and rigid, like he was trying to choke back his emotions, as he gazed at him. "I'm so sorry, son."

And just like that, the metaphorical dam that sheltered Jason's composure shattered and he found himself leaning forward, practically falling into Bruce's chest. He clung to the Batman, frantically squeezing tightly as thought he feared the man would disappear any second and the sheer force of his embrace would keep that from happening. His finger nails desperately digging into the kevlar covered suite he wore as he cried.

Faintly, among the storm of emotions rushing out of him, he felt Bruce encasing his arms around his body, pulling him closer to him with each passing second, then a chaste kiss was placed on the top of his head, making Jason's throat tighten all the more. He still didn't know exactly what was going on nor did he remember everything completely, but as he felt Bruce embrace him tightly, Dick following suit merely seconds later, as they all cried and held each other, Jason felt that at the very least, this was a start.

For right now, this was good enough for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, I thought this chapter was too short and was going to add onto it (which I did) but now I've decided to split them into two separate chapters, ya know, to make it longer. I hope that's alright with you all. 
> 
> It's funny, I find that whenever I write a fic for any fandom I'm in there's always a moment, a sentence I write that stick with me and will never stop bringing the feels and for this chapter, it was "I wasn't ready." Oof... just three simple words but they hold such an impact, they hold such a incredibly gut wrenching truth. For in canon, Jason was trained to be Robin only for six months before he fully dawned the Robin costume, whereas Dick hardly didn't need such extensive training and Tim who was put through the ringer and trained by Dick, Bruce, Alfred and several other people for several months before he became Robin. So as amazing and talented as Jason was, he wasn't ready to be Robin. 
> 
> Anywoo, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, feedback is as always welcomed and appreciated in the comments down below. And I'll see you all soon.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If ya'll liked Bruce being an affectionate dad from Jason's POV last chapter then you are gonna love him in this one. I love writing Bruce's more caring side. It's something that I always find myself never getting tired of. Also I wanted to apologize to everyone if last chapter was too short, I just felt like they two chapter needed to be somewhat separate. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this next one.

When Dick had told him he needed to meet him at Happy Harbor, Bruce had expected a lot of things. Most of them had been the worst case scenario, that someone on their team had passed or someone had been gravely injured and was clinging, grasping at the final threads of their lives. He thought this for a few reasons. Being a detective and more so being a father Bruce was able to see the telltale signs from his oldest son. The slip of his name, the emotion and hesitation within Dick's voice and the overall conversation itself, how his son seemed at such a loss for words, which again was another red flag in of itself because Richard has always been a chatterbox. And finally asking, practically begging desperately to see Bruce face to face, to come to Happy Harbor. And he did so, the Caped Crusader practically ran to Zeta Tube, leaving behind a very confused Tim and Barbara in his wake, without so much as an explanation.

Because if he had been right and someone had passed, then he knew that Dick needed him. So when he arrived at Happy Harbor within a matter of a few seconds, saw Dick already walking towards him, saw the look on Dick's face even with the domino mask on. The father in Bruce went into overdrive as he met Dick half way. And when his son hugged him without any hesitation, and Bruce had to fight the overwhelming concern down as Dick let out a small whispered "Bruce..." Bruce flashed back for a few seconds, flashback 11 years ago where he had just taken in Richard after his parent passed away, where after a week of silence the by finally cracked under the grief that was consuming him and sought Bruce out, to keep him from falling, reached out to him desperately so that he wouldn't be swallowed up by that abyss.

" **Dad**..."

And just like back then, Bruce embraced Dick tightly, running his fingers through that mess of black hair and down his back, as his shoulders shook with a storm of emotions. "What's wrong?" He asked, gently, his heart pangs a little when instead of answering, Dick let out a muffled sob. Bruce decided to stay silent, and let his son cry it out, wait until Dick was ready on his own terms. Luckily he didn't have to wait very long before Dick's breathing leveled out and the sobs turned into hiccups. Gently, Bruce pulled away just enough to slip both their masks off their faces. As much as it was against protocol, The Caped Crusader knew... no the father in him knew that they needed to be themselves. No masks, no code names or brooding persona. Just a father comforting his son.

Yes, Bruce had been expecting a lot things, but the words that Dick uttered next was something he hadn't been expecting.

"Jason's alive."

His entire world of reality shattered with just those two simple words.

Because it wasn't possible, it just couldn't be possible. He buried Jason, he buried his boy seven years ago right next to his parents after he failed to save him from the Joker, after he failed to save Jason from himself. Jason couldn't be alive, not after what happened, not after he failed him, Bruce didn't deserve such a gracious second chance. But Dick wouldn't lie about something like this, Jason's death may have shattered him but it also did equal damage to Richard as well. And the look on Dick's face, his overall reaction was all the proof enough for Bruce. Jason, his second child, his boy that he thought he lost years ago was alive.

Apparently, his expression or lack there of, must have genuinely concerned his eldest son for Dick embraced him yet again. But this time, it seemed to be for his benefit whereas before Dick had been the one that needed comforting. "C'mon B, _breathe_. Don't go passing out on me, you know I can't carry you." His son's teasing words didn't mask over the tremors still there, the faint auras of disbelief.

Bruce held Dick to him tightly, half not knowing what to do with his hands, and the other needing something to hold on to to keep him from falling drowning in the abyss of his own demons. "How?" He asked after a minute, his voice sounding uncharacteristically small.

Dick, to Bruce's surprise, actually let out a laugh, gently pulling away to look him in the eye. "How do you think? C'mon Bruce, I know your scatter brained right now but who else do you know that has the means to come back to life?"

Bruce's eyes narrowed in a knowing look. "Ra's."

Dick nodded.

_Of course it was Ra's._

His son was right, who else would it have been other then him? The question wasn't who, no the question Bruce wondered was why? Why did Ra's feel the need to bring back Jason, what did he have to gain for doing such a thing? "Before we go any further, tell me how all this happened?"

They stood there, seconds ticking by into minutes as Dick explain how this all started. The very first moment, was back when Brion had taken Forager and Halo and ambushed Infinity Island in search if his little sister. Where Dick accompanied by M'gann, Artemis, Superboy and Jefferson all staged a recuse operation for the wayward prince. While they were trying to escape Dick recalled fighting with one of Ra's assassins with wearing a red hood, with a masked and googles that covered his face. Dick pointed out that as he clashed with this assassin, there had been something familiar about him, his son stated that as they fought it was almost nostalgic, like they had done so before. But he merely thought that was the adrenaline rush coursing through him. 

Then a few hours previously, on a mission with his team Dick meet this assassin again, they fought again and Dick was hit with that same feeling of nostalgia. Then in the chaos going on around them; his opponents mask and goggles were thrown off and his identity was revealed.

"When I realized it was Jason, the other members of his team tried to make an escape but they ended up leaving Jason behind, and I somehow was able to remember a little bit about me." Dick finished his tale as they both leaned against the wall mere inches away from the Zeta Tubes. "Bruce... You should have seen him. When his teammates left him, and he realized he was alone, I think he thought that he was captured, that we were going to imprison him or something and he tried to or he _wanted_ to—" Dick abruptly stopped, looking down at his feet, his eyes looking misty again as swallowed hard.

 _Kill himself_. Bruce finished without actually saying it aloud. "Ra's has trained his assassin to take their own lives whenever they believe to be captured by the enemy." Saying out loud even with the tone of the Bat didn't make it any easier on his heart. The fact that Ra's had morphed Jason into one of his soldier's. Had changed his mindset and views that he would actually follow that protocol of conduct. It all made Bruce felt like his insides were burning with anger towards Ra's, whatever motive the man had for bringing Jason back, Bruce will be _damned_ if he was going to let Ra's get his hand on his son again.

Heart clinging in his chest, his mind racing a mile a minute. Bruce took a minute to breathe, gently he place a hand on Dick's shoulder to steady him too as he spoke with a voice he only used for his children.

"Take me to him."

•

•

•

Bruce truly couldn't believe it, for the first time in his life his mind just couldn't process what was happening, or at least at the speed that he's use too. But he knew this wasn't an illusion like he had before, because Bruce was fairly certain that Jason wrapped protectively in his arms wasn't a hallucination. No, this was real, Jason was here, right here in encased safely against him. The mere thought of new knowledge was enough to make the tears fall once more.

He reached over and ran a hand through Jason's dark curls, as the boy slept on, silently vowing to himself that he was never going to let Jason out of his sight again. "Does he have any injuries?" He asked his eldest as they both sat by Jason's side while the rest of Dick's team patiently waited outside.

To his relief, Dick shook his head once before speaking. "Apart from a sprained ankle, nothing serious, but those were Artemis' words, not mine." Yes, Bruce knew that he and Artemis both had different definitions when it came to what was and wasn't a serious injury. He just hope right now that she was right and a sprained ankle was all that Jason had.

A comfortable silence fell between them after that. Just them absorbing the fact that this was actually happening. That by some miracle, even if that miracle had been Ra's, Jason had been returned to them. That they had a second chance.

"Timmy’s gonna lose his mind from excitement."

Bruce let out a low chuckle at that statement. "Yes, he most likely will." Jason has always been Tim's hero, had been the kid's idol long after he figured out their identities and even long after Tim himself had assumed the role as Robin. Seeing Jason alive with his own eyes was probably going to short circuit the young detective's brain.

The thought alone, made him smile.

"Bruce?"

He tore his gaze away from Jason's sleeping face and looked at Dick, "Yes?"

"His memories... Jason doesn't remember everything, right?" There was a time in his eldest' voice that Bruce couldn't quite place. But Dick's expression all but gave it away, hesitation.

"It appears to be so." Bruce answered.

He watches as Dick takes a breathe and slowly lets it out, the hesitation still there, guilt there. "I can't believe I'm even suggesting this. Since I promised him that I'd help him, but— Would it be so bad if he doesn't remember everything?" Bruce understood now why Dick had been so reluctant to say what he was thinking, the suggestion of never letting Jason remember his past even the memories that weren't so nice was something he never thought Dick of all people would think about.

"Keeping those memories from him would be wrong."

Dick let out a tired sigh, running a hand through his hair. "I know that. _God_ , I know that. But even if they are just the bad ones? Like do you really think Jason would benefit at all with the knowledge that he died?"

True, Jason wouldn't at all get satisfactory in knowing that he was murdered by the Joker. But it still doesn't change one important factor. "If we don't tell him, and he remembers anyway, he'll resent and hate us for keeping it a secret. You know that he's never liked to be kept in the dark."

"But if he _does_ remember, there's a possibly that he could break from the force of it." Dick argued weakly, his eyes moving towards Jason's form. "We lost him once, Bruce. I don't think I could handle watching him shatter from those painful memories." Bruce's heart pangs as he looks at Dick, and sees that for the first time in a long time. Dick looks lost, uncertain and desperate. Reaching forward, he grasped his son's and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Is it so wrong for me to want to protect him from the pain whereas before I _couldn’t_?” 

"No one wants to take away his pain more the I do." Bruce said in a calming tone. "But I can't risk losing him again by keeping his death and all other painful memories a secret. Because those are his and his alone, we don't have the right to keep them from him, no matter how good our intentions are." Moving his hand upward, he wiped away a single tear that slid down Dick's face, before staying as a steady pressure against his son's cheek. "And even if your right and those memories do break him. We will be there for him, to help him, and put him back together."

Dick sniffed, nodding his head as he leaned into his touch for a few seconds before pulling away and straightening. Closing his eyes, Dick took in another deep breathe. "Should I call M'gann here then? She told me already but she wanted to tell you in person."

"Yes."

Dick heard him, heard his approval to get Miss Martian here, but he didn't stand up immediately like he would have if this had been any other circumstance. Eventually Dick did leave the room and he wasn't even gone for more then a few seconds before the younger man walked into the room with M'gann following behind him.

"Batman." The Martian greeted

"M'gann." He returned as he watched her walk around to the other side of the bed Jason was laying. "Nightwing said you had something to tell me?"

She nodded and looked down at Jason and then back to him. "Yes as I told Dick, I cant help Jason regain his memories. But only when and if Jason allows me too." The white Martian paused for a moment to gaze at her hands, "I did a lot of things with my powers that I'm not proud of. Things I'll never stop feeling guilty about, this is the only possible way no one will get hurt anymore. Besides that, Jason's mind is fragile enough on their own. If I were to force my way in without his consent, then his mind might see me as an immediate threat and might go into a state of shock, which in turn could damage him beyond repair and there would be no saving him."

"Is it possible to block out some of the bad memories now so that they don't cause him pain later?" Dick asked his voice curious as well as holding on to a bit of hope.

M'gann looked at Dick thoughtfully, and Bruce deducted that she didn't need to read his mind to know exactly what his son was talking about. "If that is what you both want, I can put up a barrier around his mind to block out that specific memory but there is also a danger to that as well."

"Explain."

M'gann took a breathe before continuing. "If I were to block him from recalling his own death, plus the things that matter after he was resurrected, and only helped bring forth the good memories with his permission then there is a high risk of him remembering those bad ones anyway. And if that were to happen the barrier would shatter at the intensity, tearing at his mind entirely and leave him in a catatonic state."

The atmosphere felt indescribably thicker then it had before, it felt heavy and deviled of light.

So it was either wait until Jason remembered on his own, which could take longer then the boy had patience for, in turn could lead him to going back to the League of Shadows to seek more answers, have M'gann help Jason recover those memories with his consent or risk his mind going to a state of shock if she went in otherwise. Or block the painful past Jason had endured and put up some kind of psychic shield around his mind, which could also ultimately lead to even more damaging consequences if they were to go with Option 1 but also went through with Option 3, leading to permanently destroying his son all together.

Glancing at his eldest, Bruce saw that Dick had grown considerably paler then a few moments ago. He realized then, that Dick hadn't truly thought the risk to save his brother from his own demons by never recalling those memories would be that severe and now that he knew, his eldest child didn't know what else to do. But Bruce did, no matter how painful, he wasn't going to risk shattering Jason's fragile mind. If his son broken more then he already was from remembering naturally, then what he previously told Dick still stands, they would out Jason back together.

"How long should we wait before asking his approval?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated in the comments down below, I’ll see you all soon.


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